


No Business Like Show Business

by extasiswings



Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Young Avengers
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teachers, F/M, Gen, Multi, Musicals, Partners to Lovers, Shameless use of tropes, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-07-27 05:51:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7606171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extasiswings/pseuds/extasiswings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"I'm here to see a man about a musical."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Theater teacher Darcy Lewis shows up at Atlantic High with big plans. Choir director Matt Murdock doesn't entirely know what hit him, but he's more than happy to be pulled along for the ride.</p><p>[A series of interconnected scenes within the same universe]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Overture-August/September

**Author's Note:**

> So, I had originally intended for this to be a fully connected story, but the muse has been uncooperative in that regard. Therefore, I decided the next best thing would be to post a series of scenes that I have written that occur at various points throughout the year. Hope you enjoy.

The knock comes just as Matt’s finished packing up for the day.

It’s two days before school is supposed to start up again and the only people around campus are a few members of the administrative staff and all the teachers rushing to make sure their lesson plans are ready for the coming semester. Beyond the general lack of activity, it’s after 5 and even Foggy had cut out hours before with a reminder that if Matt didn’t show up to Josie’s by 7, he would assume he’d been smothered by the unorganized stacks of sheet music and come back to save him from his terrible fate. (His words). So with that in mind, it’s more than a little surprising to hear the quiet tap of knuckles on wood.

“It’s open,” Matt calls, shifting his briefcase into his left hand as he slide his chair back from the desk. His office barely deserves the name—it’s more of a closet than an office, made even smaller by the bookcase against the wall and the piles of sheet music—and he’s highly conscious of the mess when the door opens.

“I was hoping to see a man about a musical,” a voice answers from the open doorway. It’s an unfamiliar voice—honey and smoke, the barest hint of the South in the vowels—but it’s a lovely one.

Matt blinks. “Excuse me?”

“I’m Darcy Lewis,” she greets, the air shifting as she steps further into the cramped space. “I’m the new theater teacher. You’re Mr. Murdock, yes?”

Ah, that’s right. Foggy had mentioned something about meeting the new teachers at the beginning of the week, but Matt had missed that faculty meeting when a pipe burst in his bathroom.

He clears his throat and nods, extending his hand for her to take it, grateful when she plucks it out of the air without hesitation instead of leaving it to hang for a few seconds the way people usually do when it takes a moment for it to register that he’s blind.

“Matt, please. It’s nice to meet you.”

She’s just released his hand when her original statement clicks in his head. “What were you saying about a musical?”

Darcy grins and settles in the spare chair that’s squished into the corner. “I want to put one on,” she replies, her voice brightening. “Mrs. Parker told me she hadn’t done one for years before she retired, which I think is really a shame because, hello, musicals are awesome and everyone loves them. I figured it might be a little difficult to do without getting the choir teacher on board though since, you know, you hear these kids sing on a regular basis and all. So…here I am.”

He leans back in his chair and rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, setting his briefcase back on the floor. A musical? Christ, he hasn’t worked on a musical since…student teaching maybe? Not that he wouldn’t, but…

“Musicals are an awful lot of work,” he points out.

“Trust me, I’m aware of that,” Darcy replies. “And—” she winces a little—“neither of us would get paid any extra to put in that work, but I know the kids would love it. Also, I am more than willing to offer you wine and the pleasure of my company and sparkling personality as tokens of my gratitude.”

Matt has to press his lips together to keep from laughing at that, and even more when she keeps going.

“And that…sounds like I’m hitting on you a little, which, totally not.” She sighs. “Seriously though, I know it’s a lot of work, but it would be such a great experience for all of the students and there are so many skills that they can get from putting on a musical that they can’t from regular theater. Or choir for that matter. No offense.”

He holds up a hand to interrupt her, his lips twitching in amusement. She’s a whirlwind of energy, and so passionately earnest that he can’t help being charmed.

“I wasn’t saying no,” he says.

“So, you’ll do it?”

Matt laughs. “I’m not saying yes either. I’m saying…why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking schedule-wise and we’ll discuss it.”

A silence falls between them for a moment, and then she laughs as well. “I was thinking I’d have to work harder to convince you to even listen to me,” she admits. “The director at my last school was…less than receptive.”

“Sounds like an asshole.”

She snorts. “Yeah. Yeah, he kind of was.”

Matt’s phone buzzes in his pocket. Foggy, most likely. Probably reminding him that he has an hour before he’ll be extracted whether he likes it or not. But…he does have that hour.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he says again. “And I’ll see what I can do.”

She does. Five month production time, auditions in November, performances in March. The school has apparently offered to cover production costs as long as the teachers agree to volunteer their time. It would be busy, but manageable. Definitely manageable, even with his concert schedule.

“So?” She sounds so hopeful that he can’t help but smile.

“I think you’ve got yourself a music director, Miss Lewis.”

“If I’m calling you Matt, you can call me Darcy. Especially if we’re going to be working on this, Miss Lewis is going to get old really fast,” she replies.

“Darcy. This’ll be fun.”

“Yes, it will.”

It is. Throughout the first month of school, the process goes smoothly, all the particulars falling into place one by one. They work well together and get along famously…until of course, they have to actually pick a show.

* * *

 

"You have to be kidding."

It's been an hour of going around in circles, turning over different suggestions and dismissing them for a number of reasons, but Darcy has always had one particular show in mind.

_(“Guys and Dolls.”_

_“Too few women, too many men.”_

_“Beauty and the Beast?”_

_“If you make me play Disney, I may quit.”_

_“You are such a music snob, oh my God.”_

_“Once Upon a Mattress?”_

_“Fuck no. Absolutely not.”_

_“Now who’s a snob?”)_

Darcy raises her eyebrows and puts her hands on her hips. "You can't possibly have a problem with Anything Goes. It's a classic."

"I'm not saying it's a bad musical, I'm saying it's too difficult for a first time venture," Matt argues. _Goddamn him and his logic._ “The dancing, the orchestra—”

“Are all things that we can work out.”

“Those are some pretty big things to just hope for the best on.”

"Go big or go home, Murdock," she shoots back.

"I suppose you want to be the one to teach them how to tap dance then?"

She rolls her eyes. _Shows what you know, buddy._ "For one thing, I could, but no, I have a friend who has already agreed to choreograph it. Besides, this is high school. You don't need a bunch of professional dancers or anything. As long as Reno and Bonnie can tap, everyone else can fake it."

_Come on, choir man. Work with me here._

"You telling me you couldn't pick out two women who can belt, a soprano, and three half-decent baritones from the hundred or so kids you teach every day? Or is the problem that you can't play it?"

He pulls a face as if he's a cat and she's just stepped on his tail. She would laugh at how offended he looks at the suggestion, but she's only trying to ruffle his feathers enough to get him to agree with her, not to make him genuinely annoyed with her.

_Note to self: if you want a classically trained musician to do something for you, question their skills._

"I can play it just fine," he grinds out. She waits.

"Fine."

"Fine?" Darcy nudges.

Matt rolls his eyes behind his glasses, but his lips are twitching. "Fine, Anything Goes. But I'm not touching the score until you tell me which version we're doing. And you're in charge of ordering everything."

Darcy grins and leans up on her toes to kiss his cheek. "You won't regret this. It's going to be great, you'll see."

She starts toward the door before he can change his mind, but he calls after her before she makes it.

"Darcy. Why Anything Goes?”

She stops by the door and looks back at where Matt’s leaning against the piano, a curious look on his face.

“I—” Her throat closes on the explanation. There’s a lot there, all wrapped up together in messy motives that she’d rather not get into without at least one glass of wine, and certainly not while in a high school choir room, not matter how comfortable a space it’s become over the past several weeks. There are memories playing on the backs of her eyelids, fondly exasperated murmurs of “Darcy Anne” in her ears as she replays all the times she couldn’t keep still while her grandmother attempted to pin her costumes.

“It was the first musical I was ever in,” she admits finally. “And it was my grandmother’s favorite too, so, I don’t know. It’s…special.”

She could say a lot more than that, but Matt seems to read between the lines even though she doesn’t. His face softens and a smile flickers over his lips.

“You could have said that in the first place,” he says. “I wouldn’t have fought you on it. Well…I wouldn’t have fought you very much anyway.”

“It’s going to be great,” she replies. “I know it’s difficult, but…I think we can pull it off. And it’ll be great. You’ll see.”

“I believe you.” His smile widens and her heart stutters in her chest. “I’m holding you responsible for the fact that I’m going to have Cole Porter stuck in my head for at least the next year though.”

“Could be worse,” she points out. “I could have won the Disney debate.”

Matt mock-shudders and she laughs, bright and clear, before turning back to the door.

“Goodnight, Matt. And…thank you.”

“Thank me after we pull this off,” he shoots back.

“I’m sure I’ll do that too. But just…” _Careful, Darcy girl. Don’t get all sappy on him._ “It means a lot.”

She thinks he might say something else for a moment—his mouth opens, but then shuts a second later as if he’s decided against whatever it is. Instead, he just flashes her another one of those dazzling smiles that make her stomach drop.

“Goodnight, Darcy.”


	2. December-Let's Misbehave

The room is in chaos. At the piano, Darcy pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to will away the dull throbbing behind her eyes. When she sees Matt rub his temples, she thinks he must be in a similar state. 

"You okay?" She asks quietly, her hands settling on his shoulders. He relaxes under the touch and she gives into the urge to squeeze gently. He groans and drops his head forward. 

"Just a headache," he sighs. "Last week before vacation is always rough. They're all keyed up and antsy—can't do a thing with 'em."

Considering she'd given up halfway through the day on Monday and decided to play theater games in her classes for the rest of the week, she can't help but agree with that assessment. 

"At least this is the last rehearsal," she replies. "And then a half day tomorrow and we're just as home free as they are." 

His sweater is soft—some kind of dark green cashmere blend—and her fingers curl into it when he rolls his shoulders back. His falls into his eyes when he turns to her and she fights the urge to push it back. 

"You say that as if we're guaranteed to _survive_ this rehearsal," he teases, a wry smile on his lips. "I'm not convinced we can keep them focused enough for that. But if you want to call them back to order, be my guest." 

"You've been a teacher longer than I have. I'm sure you can think of something."

Matt tips his head to the side and hums thoughtfully. "Maybe," he acknowledges. "Call them back and we'll see."

"Once more unto the breach, dear friend," she quips, grinning when he laughs. She gives his shoulders one more squeeze before stepping back from the piano and clapping her hands to get the cast's attention. 

"Okay, folks. That's enough. We're back." 

Darcy rolls her eyes at the small chorus of groans that follows her announcement. "Come on, we're almost done. I know it's close to vacation and you don't want to be here, and I appreciate all of your effort, I really do. Just...give us a little bit more." 

"Fifteen more minutes," Matt adds. "And if you can put in that much, we'll end early and...Miss Lewis will sing for you."

_Um, what?_

Darcy blinks, then snorts. "I will?"

He grins and her heart flips. _Goddammit, Murdock. Put your mouth away. And your forearms while you're at it_ , she thinks, her eyes flicking down to his rolled up sleeves. 

"I mean, they've been working _really_ hard..."

He's far too amused and it should be annoying but she really just wants to kiss that ridiculous smirk off his face. She settles for revenge. 

"Okay," Darcy agrees. "Fifteen more minutes and then Mr. Murdock _and_ I will sing something."

It's Matt's turn to blink, an adorably startled look crossing his face. 

"I'm sorry, how did I become part of this?" 

_Oh, honey. It's cute how you didn't think that was coming._

"You volunteer me, you volunteer yourself, piano man." 

For a second she thinks he might say something, but instead he shrugs and turns back to the piano. 

"Fair enough."

Darcy puts her hands on her hips and turns back to the cast, staring them down. 

"That work for you all?"

The air buzzes with a chorus of excited "yes"s and she laughs and shakes her head. _Well, alrighty then._

True to their word, the cast stays focused and calm for the rest of the rehearsal. Darcy's headache doesn't disappear, but not feeling like she's herding cats goes a long way toward diminishing it. 

"That's a wrap everyone," she says when Matt hits the last chord on the finale. "Thank you for your attention. When we come back we'll—yes, Cassie?"

"What are you going to sing for us?" The girl is just about bouncing out of her seat and she's not the only one. 

"You know, that's a good question."

"Can we pick?" Teddy interjects, sounding far too gleeful at the prospect. 

Darcy shoots a glance at Matt who looks resigned yet amused, so she nods. "Sure. Why not." 

There's a brief cacophony, several voices shouting at once and suggestions so jumbled together that she can't make them out. And then, very clearly from the back of the room, America shouts, "Let's Misbehave." 

The room goes quiet, there's a small squeak from MJ, and then there are nods all around. 

"Let's Misbehave?" Darcy repeats. _Oh, God. Really?_ At the piano bench, Matt has a small coughing fit that she's not convinced isn't laughter. 

"You _did_ say we could pick," America points out, crossing her arms over her chest. More nods from around the room. _Well then_. 

"Well, Mr. Murdock," Darcy says, crossing back to the piano. "What do you say?" 

A strange look flickers over Matt's face, but it's gone so quickly she thinks she must have imagined it. Then he laughs, stretches his fingers, and sets his hands back to the keys. 

"Sure. Whenever you're ready, Madame." 

"Class." Chord. "Dignity." Chord. "Savoir faire." Glissando. 

Darcy takes a breath to start, except...there's another glissando. And another. And another two that span the entire length of the piano that _definitely_ aren't in the score. 

"Do you mind?" She asks, fighting to keep a straight face. "I'd like to start if you don't." 

"I'm just playing what's written," Matt replies, his lips twitching. 

"Um, no, there's _one_ gliss you jerk."

"But where's the fun in that?" 

Darcy flicks his ear and he jumps, twisting away and giving her the dirtiest look he can manage while clearly holding back laughter. 

"If you _please_ , maestro," she teases. "From the beginning." 

When they start over, it's a smooth transition, and Darcy slips back into the music like it's a favorite sweater. She plays up the ridiculousness of the whole situation by draping herself across the piano, more herself than Reno in the moment. 

"We're not above birds. Let's misbehave," she finishes, running a hand playfully down Matt's arm. The last thing she expects is for him to catch her hand and pull her down to the bench with him, continuing to play with one hand while his other wreaks havoc on her nerves by brushing his thumb over her knuckles. 

"There's something wild about you, child, that's so contagious. Let's be outrageous—" He lifts her hand to his lips before releasing it and returning to playing with both. 

Technically, his verse should have been a tempo change, picking up the pace instead of staying quite so flirty and slow. But nope, apparently the universe wants to ruin her today. Or her cast does. Either way, she was not prepared for this when she got up this morning. Hell, she's still not prepared for it. 

Darcy finds herself leaning closer when she comes back in, her hand curling into the fabric over his chest. The harmonies are enough to make her shiver in this setting, although she's pretty sure she can pass it off as being cold. 

(If this were a real performance, she would probably kiss him, and she probably could here too and pass it off as a joke, but—)

The last chord fades out and the silence seems to ring in her ears. Then, there's a giggle from the front of the room and some cheers and applause and she snaps back to herself. 

"Okay, yes, thank you, I'll be here all year," Darcy jokes, releasing Matt's sweater and wiping her hands on her skirt. "Now get out of here, go home, enjoy your break. For those of you who don't have my class, I'll see you in January."

The noise level rises again as everyone gets up, but it starts tapering off fairly quickly as students filter out the door. Cassie and Cindy surprise her with hugs before running off, as does Teddy, but finally she and Matt are the only ones left and she sighs and sags against the piano. 

The duet was a nice interlude, but she's still exhausted and even more ready to go home than she was before. 

(Go home and stop thinking about her colleague and his stupid soft sweaters and his hands and his mouth and his everything, just go home and fall into bed and sleep)

Matt's hair falls into his eyes again when he rolls his neck and rests his elbows on the lid of the piano. She doesn't stop herself from pushing it back this time. 

"We survived," she says. 

Matt huffs a laugh. "Not without a sacrifice to the theater gods, but yeah, I guess we did."

"Hey, for someone who was reluctant to participate, you were pretty smooth there," she replies. "Who knew a pianist had moves like that."

His ears turn red, but his smile is all stroked ego. "I do teach choir. I can sing." 

"Wasn't talking about the singing, although that was pretty great too." No, she's talking about the way her hand is still tingling from phantom kisses, the anticipatory twist in her stomach from being pulled down next to him...the man knew how to act, she'd give him that. 

"Well, with a partner like you, I have to step it up," Matt says, and Lord have mercy, he should actually be illegal. Darcy closes her eyes and takes a breath to keep herself from flirting right back even more than she already had been. Because really, he's her colleague and her friend and the fact that she thinks about his mouth more than she should is incredibly inconvenient. 

Blessedly, the door opens before she has a chance to formulate a response. 

"Matt, you ready to go?" Foggy calls from the doorway, stopping when he notices Darcy and the lack of space between her and the choir teacher. "Or...I could...come back. Sorry, Darce, didn't realize you were still here."

Darcy waves him off, pushing off the piano and grabbing her purse off the floor. "I was actually about to leave myself," she replies. "Matt, thanks for another great rehearsal, as always. Foggy, if I don't see you tomorrow, enjoy your break." 

Matt looks like he wants to say something, but when he opens his mouth, all that comes out is a quiet, "Goodnight, Darcy."

When she gets to her car, she sits there for far longer than she needs to before actually putting the keys in the ignition and driving home. _Let's Misbehave_ is stuck in her head for the next three days.

**Author's Note:**

> In furtherance of my title as Queen of the Trash Heap, I present...this. There will be singing, there will be dancing, there will be dorkflirting galore, and I have no regrets.


End file.
